Remembering
by IrishPrincess
Summary: A year after regaining her memory, Jaime still hasn't been able to face Steve. But when he is hospitalized in serious condition, she decides that she must see him.
1. Chapter 1

**2:15 AM (EST), Tuesday, May 5, 1981**

Steve Austin. Former astronaut. OSI Agent. A man on the verge of emotional collapse. That morning, Oscar let it slip that Jaime had regained her memory a year ago. Once he realized he had said too much, Oscar had to be honest. "She remembers everything, Pal," were the words that reverberated in Steve's head as he poured himself yet another drink. Though Oscar had said those words gently, there had been no way to soften the blow. For the past year, Jaime had lived with the memories of their whirlwind courtship, their intense and all-consuming love for each other, their plans to build a future together...and he had not heard a word from her.

Almost six years had passed since Steve discovered had Jaime was still alive. During that time, he had always been certain that if she recovered her memory, she would return to him. Even when it became evident that her relationship with Chris Williams was serious, Steve was sure it couldn't compare to what the two of them had shared. But now, he had to accept the fact that he'd been wrong.

"She remembers everything, Pal." Unable to push those words out of his head, Steve threw the empty vodka bottle across the room and heard it shatter against the wall as he closed his eyes and passed out in his chair.

 **10:30 AM (EST), Tuesday, May 5, 1981**

"Damn it," Oscar Goldman said. "I never should have told him about Jaime!"

"Don't blame yourself," Rudy Wells said. "He's been headed down this self-destructive path for months."

"I knew he'd been drinking too much," Oscar said. "I threatened to suspend him more than once. But alcohol poisoning. He could have died."

"He's not out of the woods yet," Rudy said. "But at least he has a chance. If his cleaning lady hadn't found him this morning…"

"I don't want to think about the 'if,'" Oscar said. "I guess we have to call his parents. They'll want to know. I'll have Callahan arrange transportation as I'm sure they'll want to fly in to be with him."

"What about Jaime?" Rudy asked.

"I don't know," Oscar said. "She's been angry with him ever since he found out he refused to go into Budapest to try to rescue Chris."

"But it wouldn't have mattered if he'd gone. Chris was killed shortly after the explosion."

"But Steve didn't know that. And Jaime can't seem to forgive him for not trying to save the man she loved."

"Can't forgive Steve, or can't forgive herself?" voicing that thought for the first time.

"Maybe we've been wrong to mind our own business all this time," Oscar said.

"Meddling couldn't have produced a worse result than the one we're dealing with right now," Rudy said in agreement.

 **6:30 PM (EST), Tuesday, May 5, 1981**

"Mr. Goldman, Jaime Sommers on line one," Callahan said over the office intercom.

"Thank you," he replied.

Oscar took a deep breath before picking up the phone.

"Hi, Babe," he said, sounding as if all were normal.

"Oscar," she said, with a clear note of alarm in her voice, "I just got home from school and found a disconcertingly vague note from Helen and Jim saying they've gone to D.C. to be with Steve."

"That's right," Oscar said.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked so worriedly that no one would ever know she was angry with Steve.

"Jaime, I can't go into details over the phone, but Steve is in the hospital."

"It must be serious if Helen and Jim are there," Jaime said.

"It is serious. Very serious."

"Oh my God!" she said, detecting the gravity in his voice. "Oscar, I'm coming, too. Can you arrange a flight for me out of the air force base?"

"Babe, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked quietly.

"Oscar, I love Steve. I've always loved him. Of course I'm sure."


	2. Chapter 2

**11:45 PM (EST), Tuesday, May 5, 1981**

Jaime impatiently pressed the button for the 6th floor a second time, hoping it would make the elevator doors close faster. She had come to the hospital directly from the airport, praying that Steve's situation would be much less bleak than the various scenarios she had imagined during the past several hours. The elevator crawled up to the third floor, where the doors opened and a young, red-headed nurse got on. She smiled at Jaime, who smiled back, though what she really wanted to do was scream. The nurse pushed the button for the 5th floor, causing Jaime to sigh in disgust.

"Are you ok?" the nurse asked her, looking genuinely concerned. Jaime looked like a caged animal ready to escape.

"Just tired," Jaime said, trying not be curt.

The nurse nodded sympathetically and turned her attention back to the button panel. When the door opened on the 5th floor and the nurse exited the elevator, Jaime impatiently pushed the button for the 6th floor again and wished she had bionically taken the stairs. It would have been faster.

When the elevator finally opened on the 6th floor, Jaime walked briskly to the nurse's station, where she found Rudy scribbling on a chart. Hearing her heels clicking across the floor as she approached, he glanced up.

"Jaime," he said, surprised to see her. "Helen and Jim didn't tell me you were coming."

"They don't know," Jaime said. "But when I saw the note they left me, I was worried. Rudy, Oscar wouldn't tell me anything over the phone except that Steve's condition is very serious. What happened?"

"Let's go someplace where we can talking privately," Rudy said.

They walked in silence as Rudy escorted her to a small conference room the end of the long hallway. Except for a round table and four chairs, the room was bare. It was painted stark white, no pictures or decoration on the walls, and the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling emitted a harsh light.

Rudy did not speak until they were seated across the table from each other. "Jaime, Steve's cleaning lady found him passed out in his apartment early this morning. He's suffering from alcohol poisoning, and he hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"Alcohol poisoning!" Jaime repeated in disbelief. She had expected to hear he'd been injured during a mission.

"We don't know exactly how much he had to drink, but there was an empty bottle of gin on the bar, and there were shards of glass from a shattered vodka bottle strewn across the room. It looks as if he threw it at the wall. Based on his blood alcohol level, I suspect he drank the contents of both bottles last night."

"Oh my God," Jaime said softly, her eyes welling up with tears. "Why would he do that? He knows that due to his bionics, he can't drink excessively."

"I don't know why," Rudy said simply. "All we can do now is wait and hope for the best."

Jaime nodded, not trusting herself to speak for the moment. When she felt she had control of her emotions, she asked, "How are Helen and Jim holding up?"

"They're very worried, naturally. Haven't left his side since they arrived. I've been trying to convince them to get something to eat, but they won't budge. Maybe you could talk to them?"

"Sure," Jaime said, her eyes teary again. "Will you take me to them?"

"Of course," Rudy said, as he rose from the chair and held out his arm for her to take.

The next 18 hours were emotionally draining for everyone. Jaime was taken aback to see how old Helen and Jim suddenly looked. Jaime had convinced them to grab a bite to eat in the cafeteria, but they returned within an hour and resumed pacing back and forth in their son's hospital room, both looking as if they were on the verge of collapse from worry and lack of sleep. Oscar slipped in and out of Steve's room half a dozen times to check on his friend's condition, even though he could have gotten updates by picking up the telephone in his office. Rudy began trying to prepare all of them for the fact that even if Steve did wake up, it didn't mean he was suddenly "better." He clearly had a drinking problem, but might not be willing to admit it. And even if he was, overcoming it would be a long and difficult process.

All the while, Steve lay in bed, motionless except for his steady breathing. Jaime tried to imagine that he was merely asleep, but the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor was a constant reminder of the truth. Jaime found it ironic - though not surprising - that she felt more guilt now, sitting at Steve's bedside, than she had a year ago when Chris had died. She'd felt plenty of guilt over Chris' death - survivor's guilt and guilt for not having loved him enough - but she'd felt no regret over the what ifs. With Steve, all she could think of were the what ifs. What if she hadn't developed amnesia? What if they'd married seven years earlier as they had originally planned? What if she'd handled things differently when her memory had returned? She'd spent the last year sorting out her feelings and coming to terms with the past, and now it might too late.


	3. Chapter 3

**4:07AM, Thursday, May 7, 1981**

Jaime was the one with Steve when he regained consciousness. It was a little after 4:00AM, and Jaime was sitting at his bedside, thinking that the hospital seemed eerily quiet. After much coaxing, Jaime had convinced Helen and Jim to leave for few hours to get some sleep, promising she would call immediately if there were any change in Steve's condition. When Steve started stirring, Jaime bolted out of her chair and stood over him. Taking his hand in hers, she said quietly, "Steve, it's Jaime. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." When he did, she nearly burst into tears.

His eyes fluttered open and when he saw Jaime, he looked confused. "You have no idea how happy I am that you're awake." She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Am I dead?" he asked groggily.

"What?" she asked, astonished by the question.

"I must be dead. Why else would an angel be watching over me?"

"I'm going to have to ask Rudy to check that bionic eye of yours," she replied, grinning. "How do you feel?"

"Like a semi ran over my head," he said.

"Maybe Rudy can give you something for that," Jaime said as she rang for the nurse.

Steve thought he saw a look in her eyes he hadn't seen since before her body rejected her bionics, but knew it might be wishful thinking on his part. Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Jaime, I'm always glad to see you, but why are you here?"

"Because I was worried about you," she replied as the door to the room opened and Rudy walked in.

"He's awake," Jaime said, reluctantly stepping away from the bed so that Rudy could examine the patient.

"I see that. How do you feel?" he asked, addressing Steve.

"Like my head is going to explode. Doc, can you give me something for the pain?"

Rudy gave Jaime a look that clearly said he wanted to be alone with Steve, so she excused herself by saying to Steve, "I'll be back in a little while. I'm going to call Mom and Dad and let them know that you're awake."

After calling the Elgins with the good news, Jaime sat alone in the small conference room in which she had met with Rudy upon her arrival at the hospital. For the past few days, the room had served as a sanctuary of sorts for the people who cared about Steve. Though the physical appearance of the room was just as harsh and plain as it had been that first night, it looked different to Jaime now. The stark white of the room seemed light and hopeful, matching Jaime's mood. No matter what happened now, at least Steve knew she cared about him. If he had died believing she was still angry, she would have never forgiven herself.

"I hear he's awake," Oscar said, walking into the room. "How is he?"

"He complained that his head hurts, so I guess he has one heck of a hangover," Jaime said, thinking to herself that she must really be tired because she hadn't heard Oscar coming.

"Not surprising," Oscar said, taking a seat across the table from her. "Where are Helen and Jim?"

"The left a little before midnight to go to Steve's apartment to get some sleep. I just called them. I hated to wake them, but I promised I would call right away if there was any news. I'm sure they'll be here shortly."

Oscar nodded.

"Oscar, do you have any idea why Steve would have consumed so much alcohol?" Jamie asked. This was the first time they had been alone together since Jaime's arrival in D.C. She had been wanting to speak to Oscar privately. As Steve's best friend, he must have some inkling of what was going on in Steve's mind. "What could have been troubling him so much?"

"Jaime, Steve has been brooding about something for months, but I don't know what it is. I've asked, but he always brushes me off, tells me it's nothing. But he's been drinking more than usual lately, though nothing a dramatic as the other night."

Sensing Oscar was leading up to something, Jaime waited.

"That morning, I let it slip that you recovered your memory last year."

"Oscar! Why? Why would you do that?" Jaime asked furiously.

"I didn't mean to," he said, "and believe me, Babe, there's nothing you can say that will make me feel any worse about it than I already do."

Seeing the remorse in his face, Jaime's fury dissipated. She couldn't be angry with Oscar, who loved Steve like a brother. Jaime realized the person she was really angry with was herself. She should have told Steve about her memory months ago.

"Well, if his alcohol intake had been increasing, an event like the other night might have been inevitable," Jaime said, trying to make Oscar feel better. "Did anything unusual happen right before he started drinking more? A mission gone bad? A breakup with a serious girlfriend?"

Oscar tried to hide a smirk at the last question. "No, not that I know of. His missions have been fairly routine over the past year. And I'm not aware of any serious romantic entanglements."

"Whatever it is, I guess he'll talk about it when he's ready."

"I hope so. I know Rudy plans to send a psychiatrist in to see him when the time is right, but Steve isn't one to talk about his feelings."

Jaime nodded. During the past year, neither had she. Now, that was going to change. When Steve was well enough, she was going to tell him everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**7:05AM (EST), Saturday, May 9, 1981**

Unable to focus on the television, Steve pressed the "off" button on the remote control and placed it on the nightstand next to his hospital bed. He had been conscious for a little more than 48 hours and had spent most of that time wondering how he could have done something so reckless and stupid. He had always prided himself on being responsible and disciplined. In high school, he'd been an honors student and a first-rate football player. The same had been true in college. He had joined the Air Force three weeks after his college graduation and rose to the rank of colonel within three years. He'd been equally successful at NASA. Following his accident, he'd adjusted to his bionics and become a top-notch OSI operative. All of these accomplishments had been achieved through determination, hard work, and discipline.

Steve knew that his choice of dangerous occupations had, over the years, given his parents reason to worry about him. However, he had always prided himself on the fact that his personal behavior had not. From the time he was a young boy, he had wanted to make his parents proud, so he had always played by the rules, done the right thing, and made responsible choices. But his parents' haggard appearances over the past two days made their anguish obvious, and Steve hated knowing he was the cause of such worry. He wished that Oscar hadn't called them.

And then there was Jaime. Though she hid her concern better than Jim and Helen hid theirs, Steve could tell she was worried about him, too. He wasn't surprised as they'd been good friends for more than 25 years. However, he was surprised that Jaime had apparently dropped everything and rushed to D.C. to be by his side when Oscar called her. Had he asked her to come? Jaime had been furious with him last year upon learning that he had turned down the rescue mission in Budapest. When he tried to visit her in the hospital, she had ordered him out of her room, screaming that she never wanted to see him again. Stoic as always on the outside, Steve had been devastated on the inside. During the two years she'd been with Williams, he had tried to get over Jaime, but the candle that burned in his heart for her simply wouldn't go out. A couple of weeks after the scene in the hospital, when Jaime had returned to Ojai, he'd received a note of apology from her, explaining that she had just learned of Chris' death when he stopped by and that she'd been so emotionally distraught that she hadn't known what she was saying. She assured him that she valued their friendship and simply needed time to herself to heal emotionally as well as physically. Steve didn't doubt the sincerity of her note and gave her the space she needed. Other than a couple of cute get well cards he had sent her, their only communication had occurred indirectly through Helen.

Though he knew it seemed coldhearted on his part, Steve had hoped that once Jaime had come to terms with Chris' death the two of them might grow closer. But those hopes were violently ripped to shreds when he learned that Jaime remembered their past and hadn't told him. The Jaime who loved him would never have kept that secret for an entire year. Clearly, as far as Jaime was concerned, her romantic feelings for Steve were in the past and she had no desire to try to rekindle them. Steve had already lost Jaime twice: once to death and once to amnesia. Now, he felt as if he'd lost her a third time. He knew he had to find a way to extinguish that candle once and for all, but he had no idea how to do it. Jaime was, and always would be, the love of his life.

"How are you doing, Pal?" asked Oscar, walking into the room and interrupting Steve's thoughts.

"I keep telling everyone that I'm fine, but no one seems to believe me," Steve replied a bit impatiently.

"Well, you can't really blame us, can you? You gave us quite a scare," Oscar said.

"I'm sorry about that," Steve said. "As I've explained more that once, I'd had a stressful day and decided to have a couple of drinks before going to bed to help me relax. I lost track. End of story. Was it really necessary to call my parents and Jaime?" Steve asked.

"Steve, I called your parents because we weren't sure if you were going to pull through and I knew they'd want to be here with you. However, I did not call Jaime. She called me when she found out Helen and Jim were here. When I told her you were in the hospital, she insisted on coming."

"She did?" Steve asked, obviously surprised. He had assumed that Oscar contacted her.

"Yes, she did," Oscar said, with the same slight smirk on his face as the one he'd worn when Jaime asked him if Steve had recently broken up with a serious girlfriend.

"Interesting," Steve said after a moment in an attempt to fill the silence in the room.

Oscar hoped he wouldn't regret what he was about to tell his friend. He had blabbed once too much this week. "What's more interesting is what she said when I asked her if she was sure she wanted to come."

"Oh?" Steve said, waiting for Oscar to continue.

"Yes. I believe her exact words were, 'I love Steve. I've always loved Steve. Of course, I'm sure.'"

Steve couldn't have been more stunned if Oscar had said that Jaime told him she was in love with Sasquatch. "She said that? Why would she tell you and not me?"

"I'm not sure she's aware she said it. She stated it very matter-of-factly, as if it were common knowledge, something that I already knew."

"She meant she loves me as a friend then," Steve said, feeling a bit like a gossiping seventh grader who was getting ready to ask his friend to pass a girl a note in study hall.

"I don't think so," Oscar said, giving Steve a pointed look. Oscar was not usually one to play matchmaker, but he instincts told him that Steve needed this information. Jaime and Steve had been dancing around their unresolved feeling for each other for years.

"Well, I'll check in with you later, Pal," Oscar said as he headed for the door leaving Steve alone and more confused than ever about Jaime.

Once Oscar was gone, Steve realized two things. One, he would never understand women. Two, the candle he had been trying to extinguish was burning as brightly as it ever had.


	5. Chapter 5

**9:00PM (EST), Sunday, May 10, 1981**

Jaime took the saucepan off the stove and poured the steaming hot cocoa into the two mugs on the tray. Then she opened the cupboard and spotted a bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies, a favorite of hers and Helen's.

"Good old Oscar," she said to herself as she arranged the cookies on a plate. "He knows what I like."

Oscar had found a spacious two-bedroom OSI apartment just half a block from the hospital for Jaime and the Elgins to use. The kitchen was fully stocked with Jaime's favorite foods and the few things Oscar knew that the Elgins liked.

"Here we go," Jaime said as she entered the living room, where Helen was resting on the oversized sectional sofa. "A little snack to help us relax before turning it."

"Thank you, Dear," Helen said appreciatively as she sat up and took the mug Jaime handed her.

Jaime joined her (almost) mother on the sofa. Even though it wasn't late, both women were exhausted. Steve had been out of immediate danger for a few days, but his situation was far from settled. Rudy and Oscar were still concerned about Steve's drinking and thought he needed treatment for it. Of course, Steve wasn't a candidate for a typical inpatient treatment program because he couldn't share details of his life with other patients. Rudy was pushing for continued hospitalization and individual therapy with Dr. Barnes, an OSI psychiatrist, but Steve was refusing, insisting that he didn't have a drinking problem. Jim and Helen believed that what Steve needed was a change of scenery. They wanted him to return to Ojai for an extended visit, believing that spending time working on his ranch would be good for him.

"It was so kind of Oscar to find us such a comfortable apartment and insist that we use it," Helen said. "He's not at all the gruff government bureaucrat he pretends to be."

Jaime chuckled. "No, he's not. He's actually a teddy bear once you get to know him."

The women sipped their cocoa in companionable silence for a few minutes. Jaime was worried about Helen, who was usually cheerful and chatty. Jaime couldn't remember Helen ever looking so tired and worried.

"Mom, Steve is going to be ok," Jaime said.

"Yes, I know," Helen said, sighing. "I'm very thankful for that. But we still don't know what's bothering him. I had hoped he would confide in me or Jim, but he hasn't. Jaime, has he given you any indication of what's going on in his mind? You two have always been so close."

"No," Jaime said, shaking her head. "Things are a little awkward between us right now."

"Because Oscar told him about your memory?"

"I think so. Neither of us has brought it up yet. I should have told him months ago."

"No, don't blame yourself. Your reasons for waiting were sound." Helen said, remembering how emotionally fragile Jaime had been when she returned to Ojai following her disastrous mission in Budapest. At first, Helen thought Jaime had been traumatized by the explosion and guilt over Chris' death. Six months after returning home, Jaime finally confided in Helen about her memories and asked her advice about what to do. "Steve is glad you're here; I can tell by the way he looks at you."

Jaime blushed and said, "I'm going to talk to him tomorrow. Apologize for the fact he heard it from Oscar and not me. I feel like we have to clear the air."

"I think that's a good idea," Helen said. "You know, Jaime, he's going to want to pick up where you two left off before your amnesia. He's waited for this moment for a long time."

"I know," Jaime said, "and that scares me a little. As much as I love him, I think we need to take things slowly, especially considering that..."

"He's emotionally fragile and won't admit it?" Helen asked.

"I don't want to make things worse for him," Jaime said.

"Hearing you say that you love him won't make things worse," Helen said reassuringly. "In fact, it might make him more likely to face his demons if knows he won't have to do it alone."

"I don't know," Jaime said. "He's always been the strong, silent type."

"Yes, ever since he was a little boy," Helen said. "I think it's because he didn't have a father until he was almost eight years old. Both of his grandfathers used to tell him to take good care of me because he was the man of the house. I'm afraid he took those words too seriously. He never wanted me to worry."

"I think he would have been like that anyway," Jaime said. "It's who he is."

"Perhaps," Helen said, sounding unconvinced. "Anyway, maybe once you two clear the air, Steve will confide in you."

"I hope so," Jaime said. "I want to help him more than anything. I want him to know that I love him no matter what."

"On some level, he knows that," Helen managed to say before yawning.

"Mom, why don't you go to bed?" Jaime said. "I'm going to turn in as soon as I take care of these dishes."

"I had hoped to stay up until Jim returned from the hospital, but I think I will go to bed. I can barely keep my eyes open," Helen said as she rose from the sofa.

Jaime stood up and kissed Helen on the cheek. "Goodnight," she said.

"Goodnight," Helen said. Then she grasped Jaime's hand. "I'm so glad you're here. And not just for Steve's sake."

"I'm glad I'm here too," Jaime murmured as the older woman walked to the bedroom and closed the door.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Jaime arrived at the hospital just as visiting hours began. Even though the door to Steve's room was open, Jaime paused at the entrance. Because Steve was sitting in a chair by the window and looking outside, he didn't see her. The pensive look on his face suggested he was lost in not-so-pleasant thoughts. Jaime knocked before entering.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

"Good morning," he said, trying to sound cheerful and not quite succeeding.

"How do you feel today?" she asked as she sat in the chair opposite him.

"Same as I felt yesterday and the day before - just fine. I don't understand why Rudy won't release me."

Jaime decided to tackle the issue head on. "Because you almost died and you won't talk about whatever was bothering you so much that you nearly drank yourself to death."

"Not you, too," Steve said in disgust.

"Sorry," she said, shrugging.

"You sound like that shrink who keeps stopping by."

"My guess is you haven't told him anything either."

"Nothing to tell."

"Steve, we've always been able to talk to each other. You can tell me anything, you know," she said.

"Works both ways, Sweetheart," he responded in a sarcastic tone. He couldn't help thinking she was being hypocritical considering that she hadn't confided in him during the past year.

Jaime didn't have to have to ask what he meant. "I intended to tell you," she said quietly.

"Really?" he said, an unmistakable hint of bitter sarcasm in his voice. "That's a little hard to believe, Jaime. You've had a year."

"It's complicated," she said, her eyes getting watery.

As betrayed as he felt, he couldn't bear to see the hurt look in her eyes or the knowledge that he had caused it by the way he had spoken to her. He'd always had an instinctive desire to protect her and keep her safe (even when he knew she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself).

"I'm sorry," he said gently, sounding like the man she used to know. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"Are you sure you're up to hearing about it?" she asked.

"Sure," he said.

She took a deep breath before beginning. "Steve, when I resigned from the OSI three years ago, it's because I didn't really know who I was anymore. I felt like being an operative had taken over my life. I had just turned 30, and I knew if I continued down the path I was on, I was going to end up alone. I didn't want to look back at 50 and regret not having a family. I wanted a normal life."

Steve nodded sympathetically. He was familiar with those feelings. Over the past six years, he'd thought often of the family he and Jaime had planned.

"I thought if I didn't spend so much time on OSI missions and focused on my personal life, maybe I'd find the right man and settle down." Jaime couldn't look at Steve when she said those words. For the past year, she'd lived with the memory of having found that man once.

"And you thought you'd found that man in Williams?" Steve asked, trying not to sound bitter.

"I thought I'd found a relationship that was worth pursuing. I loved Chris, but I knew he loved me more, which bothered me because I felt he deserved better. But, he was offering marriage and children, two things I wanted, so I decided I should try to make a go of the relationship.

"Chris asked me twice over the next two years to marry him, and both times I put him off, telling him that I wasn't ready yet. The truth was I knew something wasn't right, and the problem was with me, not Chris. I felt like something was missing, something I couldn't identify, much less put into words.

"I guess my heart was trying to tell me it would never work with Chris because every time I tried to picture spending the rest of my life with him, you were always somewhere in the background, Steve. I'd picture the wedding Chris and I talked about, and you'd be the one walking me down the aisle. I'd imagine moving into our dream house, and you'd be living next door. You appeared in every scenario I tried to imagine, and I couldn't make you go away."

Steve was stunned. Since Jaime didn't seem to know what to say next, he spoke. "Jaime, are you saying that you remembered us before you were hurt in Budapest?"

"No. I didn't remember being in love with you or the events of that spring until after Budapest. But - and this is going to sound corny- even though my mind didn't remember, I think my heart did. Or, maybe my memories were on the verge of surfacing and that's why you were in my thoughts of the future."

Steve reached out and took her hand.

"Anyway, about a month before Chris and I went to Budapest, I realized that I couldn't marry him - ever. I simply didn't love him enough."

Steve sensed that she was holding back. "What happened?" he asked gently.

Her eyes started tearing up again. "It's something I've never told anyone, except my therapist and Mom," she said.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business," he said.

Jaime smiled at him, touched by his kindness. "No, I want to tell you the entire story. What happened is...I had a pregnancy scare." Noticing how shocked he looked, she quickly added, "I wasn't pregnant. I was just...late. But during that week I thought I might be pregnant, I realized that even though Chris loved me, wanted to marry me, and would be a great father, I didn't want to marry him or have a child with him."

"That must have been hard on you," Steve managed to say. He was surprised to learn that Jaime had had doubts about her relationship with Chris. Prior to Williams' death, the OSI rumor mill had Jaime and Chris on the verge of walking down the aisle and living happily ever after.

"It was," she said before taking another deep breath. "When I realized I wasn't pregnant, I knew I had to break up with Chris. It wasn't fair to either of us to stay together. So, two days before Oscar sent us to Budapest, I told Chris it was over between us. He didn't take it well."

"Did he try to hurt you?" Steve asked, forgetting about Jaime's bionics for the moment.

"No, he would have never done anything like that," Jaime said. "But he really believed marriage was in our future, so he was very hurt. He kept trying to convince me that we could fix whatever the problem was. He said he loved me and would do anything to keep me. Then, when he realized my mind was made up, he accused me of being in love with...someone else."

"With me," Steve said. It was not a question.

"Yes," Jaime said. "I think throughout our relationship, he was afraid my memories would return and I would leave him for you."

"And this happened two days before you went to Budapest? How could Oscar send the two of you on a dangerous mission 48 hours after you broke up?"

"He didn't know."

"One of you should have told him!" Steve said. "Going into a dangerous situation under those circumstances..."

"Could have gotten us killed," Jaime said, finishing his sentence as a tear ran down her cheek. "It got Chris killed."

Steve silently admonished himself to be quiet. He was making this more painful for her. "Jaime, I'm sorry. I've never liked the idea of you being in harm's way under the best of circumstances. When I think about what could have happened to you in Budapest..."

"I know," she said softly, squeezing his hand.

She seemed unable to continue, so Steve chose his words carefully. "Waking up in the hospital with the memories of our past and learning that Chris was gone must have been very difficult for you."

"It was, but probably not in the way you think. Those long-lost memories made me realize what was missing from my relationship with Chris. Even though I loved him, I loved him in a very different way from the way I loved you. Even if I live to be 110, I don't think I'll ever love anyone that way I loved you."

"I know that feeling," he said, as he wondered if that was love was entirely in the past. He hoped not.

"But, I felt guilty. Guilty for getting hurt and abandoning Chris. Guilty I was alive and he wasn't. Guilty that I had caused his last days to be unhappy ones. Guilty that I was mourning the loss of my relationship with you more than I was mourning Chris. And guilty about what I had done to you."

"Jaime, if you're talking about refusing to see me when you found out I had turned down the rescue mission, there's no reason for you to feel guilty about that. I understood that you were upset. And, you apologized in the note you sent."

"It's not that. I felt guilty about my amnesia, about forgetting us. I..."

"Jaime," he started, interrupting her.

"No, please. Let me finish. I know the memory loss wasn't my fault, but I've alway felt bad about it because I knew how hard it was on you. Or, I thought I knew. But Steve, once I had those memories back, they were so fresh and raw. It felt like I should be able to go back to Ojai and find that time had stood still, that it was still 1975 and you were there waiting for me The emotions were so intense; I remembered the plans and promises we had made to each other. Even though you've been stoic every time I've seen you over the past six years, I realized that you must have been dying inside."

"I was," he admitted in a quiet voice.

Jamie nodded. "That's what I'm sorry about."

"Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault. I hated the circumstances kept us from having the life together we had planned, but I was grateful you were alive and well and happy."

"You've sacrificed so much for me," she said, another tear running down her left cheek.

"I don't see it that way," he said as he reached out and gently brushed her tear away. "Jaime, there's something I have to know. Did the pain return with your memories?"

"No," she replied as she shook her head. "I remember the pain, but it's only a memory. When I remember the way we were, I feel happiness...and love."

Relieved to learn that Jaime's memories and the excruciating pain she experienced in the past were no longer intertwined, Steve exhaled. He and Jaime sat quietly for a minute, gazing into each other's eyes as they remembered what it was like to be close.

Steve finally broke the silence. "I understand why you didn't tell me about your memories the day I stopped by your hospital room. You were still in shock," he said gently. "But why didn't you let me know after a couple of weeks or a couple of months? Why did I have to hear about it from Oscar?"

"I'm sorry about that. I should have been the one to tell you. But I needed time because it was all so overwhelming. Even though I had broken up with Chris, his death was a terrible blow. I was dealing with all the guilt I told you about. And I had the memories of the happiest period of my life - falling in love with and planning to marry you. At the same time, I remembered the experience of rejecting my bionics, which was the most terrifying experience of life. I had to sort all of that out. I had to figure out if any or all of these newly-recovered memories changed who I am. I didn't feel I could tell you, or anyone else, until I had my equilibrium back. Except for my therapist, I didn't tell anyone until about seven weeks ago."

"You told Oscar," he said.

"No," Jaime said. "Oscar read my medical files, which include my therapist's notes and reports."

"I think Oscar reads the medical files of everyone associated with the OSI," Steve said.

Jaime nodded in agreement. "No privacy when you work for Oscar Goldman. But he means well."

"Whom did you confide in?" Steve asked. Jaime might think it was none of his business, but he thought he had a right to know who she told.

Jaime hesitated for a moment before answering. "Mom. But don't be angry with her for not telling you! I swore her to secrecy. And she knew I was planning to tell you very soon. I was waiting for the school year to end so that I wouldn't be distracted and I could focus on..."

"On us?" he asked when she seemed unsure of how to finish her sentence.

"Yes," she said, looking at him shyly. "If that's what you want, too."

"You had doubts?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, we've both been through a lot in the last six years."

"True, but I still love you, Jaime. I've always loved you," he said, reaching over and taking her other hand into his.

Jaime smiled as her eyes filled with tears of happiness. "I love you, too. During the past year, I realized that I've loved you all along, but I couldn't see what was right in front of me because I was trying so hard to remember the past."

They leaned towards each other and shared a soft, tender kiss. In that moment, they both recalled a similar encounter at Lake Casitas in 1975, the kiss that had marked the beginning of a new relationship for two child sweethearts. Though their current surroundings were not nearly as romantic, this kiss felt equally meaningful and significant.


End file.
